I’m still not exactly sure what I’m doing here, but here we go. . . 1986’s Rad is one of the films that has the greatest discrepancies between critic and fan ratings – despised by the former, loved by the latter. An unknown to even the most fanatical of film fans, yet also a cult classic adored by its underground supporters, this motion picture, directed by stuntman nonpareil Hal Needham, is like a scientifically concocted adrenaline shot of cheese, kitsch, B movie badness, with a fantastical twist on the 80s. . . and, for some bizarre reason, I kind of liked it.
Welcome to the town of Cochrane, a fictional place where the newspaper delivery boys are aided and cheered on by its local citizens (including the garbage men), where the cops love nothing more than playing a motorcycle versus bike version of hide and go seek against the kids in the local wood mill, where everyone’s favourite pastime is called ‘ass sliding’ – no, it’s not as dirty or fun as it sounds, where the dancing looks like a part of a Siegfried & Roy show (and that’s not to mention the sexualized bicycle tango), and each and every person (be it the Shriners on their little clown cars, or its aged population) seems to be absolutely enthralled by BMX biking.
One of the aforementioned paperboys is Cru Jones (Bill Allen), a local teen enthralled with the world of BMX, much to the chagrin of his pro college, gavel-pounding mother (Talia Shire). Fortunately for him, the bigwigs in the city have come to an agreement with Duke Best (Jack Weston), the shady President of The Federation of American Bicyclists and the owner of Mongoose bicycles, who together, are bringing a new BMX race to town.
In come the biggest names of the BMX world, including world number 1 ranked Bart Taylor (Bart Conner – yes, the U.S. gymnast who won two Gold medals at the 1984 Olympics). The community and the BMX organizers have developed a course called the Helltrack – basically, they’re trying to make their town the Wimbledon of the racing world. An addendum to the entire event is that they are going to host a qualifying round where local bikers are able to sign up to compete (if they somehow finish high enough in the rankings, they win a hefty ten grand and get one of the twenty coveted spots on the Helltrack). . . uh oh, it just so happens that this qualifying round will be held on the same day as Cru is supposed to write his SATs.
Generally a cocky crew (and no, I’m not talking about the paperboy), Taylor (a slightly less jerky version of Johnny from The Karate Kid), who is sponsored by Mongoose, is always followed by twins (get your minds out of the gutter) Rex and Rod Reynolds (Chad and Carey Hayes – weirdly looking a bit like Rafael Nadal, to keep the tennis analogies going), and a bunch of poofy-haired gals. . . though he really has his eye on female BMXer Christian Hollings (Lori Loughlin – and no, she is not involved in any bribery, money laundering, or any other type of sketchy scandal. . . in fact, she is cast against type as the good girl), who has absolutely no interest in him. . . but has an immediate connection with Cru (hence the bike tango and the ass sliding – remember to watch that dirty mind!).
Tied in with a story of corporate greed and the Machiavellian manipulations of the powerhouse elite, Cru and his friends are in tough against Duke Best (whose last name is clearly ironic), a man who will stop at nothing to see his prized Taylor win the race (as a multi-million dollar merchandising deal will immediately follow).
A simplistic, feel good, underdog 80s story that disappeared upon its original release – only to find a new home being sold on VHS in bike stores and being rented endlessly at Blockbuster (building its cult persona from the ground up), Rad is basically a film only known in the world of BMXing. It might not be particularly great in very many aspects – be it story, acting, or cinematography; yet the two biggest stand outs are the impressive riding from the professional BMXers who joined the project, and the unknown 80s soundtrack (with numerous John Farnham tunes with titles like “Thunder in your Feet” and “Break the Ice”). But somehow, despite its flaws, it wins you over with its dope attitude and gnarly action. Though this one might not live up to its name of ‘radical’, grind yourself back to the 80s where bad actually meant really good. . . and ass sliding meant something much more wholesome.